


Dragon Rising

by kimdmagicdragon, thegracious



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, In which Ned Stark has the Thu'um
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 23:21:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1583147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimdmagicdragon/pseuds/kimdmagicdragon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegracious/pseuds/thegracious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Alduin has returned, and the dragons and the dead are stirring all over Westeros.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragon Rising

Chapter 1: Unbound

They had dressed him in a fine doublet embroidered with a white direwolf, with a thick gray cloak to match. But her father was thinner than Arya had ever seen him in  her life, and the bandages wrapped around his wounded leg were filthy and soaked with pus. The rags stuffed inside his mouth were filthier still.

 

The crowd jeered as Ned was forced to kneel on the steps of the Sept of Baelor. "That's what ye get for fuckin' with the King, Stark!" A man yelled from somewhere in front of Arya. She angrily opened her mouth to protest, remembered herself, and wrenched it back shut - she could pass off as a boy well enough dressed in breeches, but once she started talking there was no denying her gender or her birth.

 

"I don't think Stark did it, though." one of the man's companions argued. "Lord Stark's a good man, and King Robert is his best mate, innit?”

 

“Why'd he betray the King, then?”

 

“No, I'd bet my left ball that it was that Lannister cunt that got the King, and Lord Stark knows it. Now they want to get rid of him, so here he i-"

 

“You shut your mouth about the Queen, Nils! How could she - look at her, all dressed in black for her grief! Poor woman, having to go through her husband’s death and a power grab from Stark!”

 

“Well, they say that Eddard Stark murdered the High King Robert with his Voice! Shouted him apart from the belly out, and blamed a fucking boar for it -”

 

Arya fought her way through the crowd, but everyone kept pushing and all the men were bigger, tougher than her. She found herself getting shoved off to the side, head pounding with noise as everyone around her obnoxiously spreading gossip and lies about her father.

 

“ - an’ I told you already, if Renly ain’t guilty then where’s he at, then? I tell you, only a man guilty of murderin’ his brother would leave before they put him in the ground! Renly’s just using Stark here as a scapegoat!”

 

"Good day, citizens!" The High Septon suddenly shouted from the steps. Sansa was up there, Arya realized with a jump, along with the royal party. Joffrey, dressed in the red and gold of his mother’s house, stood next to the Queen, in her mourning silks. Her sister was standing at Joffrey’s other side, wearing a blue gown, and her hair was done up elaborately. That was all Arya could see.

 

“We have gathered you all here today to bear witness to the sentencing of Eddard Stark, a traitor to the Crown. The Queen and Lord Baelish, member of the Small Council, have presented evidence that Lord Stark had altered the late King Robert’s will, in order to put himself in the position of Regent until Joffrey had come of age.”

 

Immediately the crowd began to mutter amongst themselves again.  

 

“A full investigation has been conducted by the City Watch,” the High Septon continued, “and they have found sufficient evidence to support the Queen’s claim. Given this, Lord Stark has been found guilty of these accusations.” He turned and knelt at Joffrey’s feet. “As we sin, so do we suffer. What punishment shall be given to this traitor, Your Grace?”

 

All eyes turned to Joffrey at that. Arya had finally pushed her way enough to get to the front of the crowd, and could see Joffrey’s sick smirk plain as day. She could also see the simpering smile on Sansa’s face. Arya turned away in disgust.

 

“My mother bade me execute this traitor for his crimes against myself and my family.” Joffrey began. The crowd hushed down, straining to listen to every word he said. “However, the most heinous crime this man has committed has not been addressed. This man killed my father, and I will not rest until he confesses to this crime! Hound, take his gag!”

 

There was a collective gasp - though none looked as shocked at the queen. Varys and Littlefinger erupted into objections, but Joffrey ignored them. Even her father’s head snapped up, looking warily at Joffrey. Arya just grinned triumphantly. Joffrey’s stupidity would be the death of him; everybody with any sense at all knew that Eddard Stark was unstoppable with his Voice. The Queen immediately began to speak to her son in hushed tones, but as Joffrey listened his expression grew angrier and angrier until he looked positively livid.

 

“This is not some silly game, mother! You say that this man killed my father - as his son, it is my duty to avenge him! I am the King, mother, I will deal with this traitor as I see fit!” Joffrey all but screamed at his mother. The Queen flinched, and moved towards her son, saying something that Arya couldn’t quite hear. But he had already turned away, and was now approaching Father with the Hound at his back.

 

“Hound, remove his gag.” Joffrey ordered. His dog obeyed, and Arya had to bite back a cry of triumph as she watched Sandor Clegane wrench the bundle of rags from Father’s mouth. _Please, gods, help my father escape_ , she prayed with all her might, as her grip tightened around Needle. The Hound was giving Father some water now, and he looked to be so eager for some drink that he nearly choked on it. _He probably hasn’t been given any food or drink at all_ , Arya realized with apprehension. She was certain that Queen Cersei would have been too afraid of her father’s Voice to allow anyone to remove his gag, even for food or drink.

 

Joffrey leaned down to say a few things to Father, and Arya saw him nod tersely. A satisfied smirk spread across Joffrey’s face, and he turned back to the crowd with flourish. “Lord Stark has agreed to confess to his crimes!” The crowd went wild, with people shrieking taunts and obscenities - to whom, Arya couldn’t hear. Between her worry for her father’s life, her worry for her own, her anger at his captors and her anticipation of what her father was going to Speak of, she could no longer concentrate on anything else but her father’s face.

 

Joffrey raised a hand to silence the crowd, and her father began to speak. His voice was wan and thin, though, and Arya could barely make him out. No one behind her could make him out either, it seemed, and some of them were grumbling.

 

“We can’t hear you! Talk louder!” someone from the crowd interrupted.

 

“What?!”

 

“Ain’t he famous for Shoutin’ or some business like that?”

 

The Hound kicked her father; he nearly buckled, but managed to keep his balance. “Louder, Stark!” Joffrey crowed. Sansa had hidden her face in her hands.

 

Her father gulped, and grimaced. He raised his voice and began again - and this time, the ground shook when he Spoke. The crowd behind Arya panicked, and everyone began to shout, but her father’s Voice was loud and clear - nobody could ignore him as he Spoke.

 

“I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and a friend to the late King Robert Baratheon. I was deeply grieved for the passing of my friend from a boar wound he sustained during the hunt. Unfortunately, the events following his death have prevented me from accomplishing one of my tasks as Hand - to install King Robert’s rightful heir to the Iron Throne. As Joffrey and his siblings are not Robert’s children, but rather, the Kingslayer Jamie Lannister’s bastards born of incest with the Queen Cersei, he is not the rightful heir, and the throne must pass on to Robert’s brother Stannis.”

 

If it were possible, the crowd seemed to get even more chaotic. Joffrey eyes bulged out of their sockets in his rage, and screamed something unintelligible at the Hound. He then turned to her father and punched him squarely in the face - Arya tensed, and her hand flew to Needle’s pommel again, but suddenly her father bellowed and there was silence. Something shrieked in the distance.

 

“ _Tinvaak vahzah_. I Speak the truth. On my honor as a Greybeard, however short my time as one was, I swear to all present that this is the truth.” He turned to look at Joffrey. “This boy is not your King. May the gods guide you to act in accordance to the truth I have Spoken.”

 

Another shriek, louder this time, echoed through the square. “Lies!” Joffrey screeched. “I’ll have no more of your insolence, dog! Bring me his head!”

 

The crowd roared, and then Ser Ilyn Payne, thin as a skeleton and dressed in black ring mail, stepped out from behind the lords and knights of the court. Dimly, Arya heard Sansa screaming hysterically - “ _He’s not lying! Father can’t lie! Don’t hurt him, please, I beg you!_ ” - but she paid her sister no heed as she threw herself into the crowd, drawing Needle to carve her way to her father. She managed to knock the man called Nils down, and squirmed past his companions - the Goldcloaks had produced a block for Ser Ilyn, and someone had hastily shoved the gag back into her father’s mouth.

 

But the ground was shaking still - was her father still speaking? Then suddenly, a shadow passed over the crowd, and Arya’s jaw fell as she looked up. A great, black dragon flew above them, heading for the next hill - to the Red Keep. A thousand voices began to scream and shout all at once, and everyone was pushing up against her - she saw her father on his feet, Shouting at Ser Ilyn, but then a sea of bodies blocked her line of sight as people surged towards the exits of the square. Still, she continued fighting to get to the steps of the sept.

 

“Here, you!” she heard over the chaos, but she pushed past the voice on her way to the front of the crowd. A hand shot out from the crowd, and grabbed her shoulder so hard that she nearly fell over. “It’s not safe here, not with that - thing - flying around!” the voice snarled at her. “In here!”

 

“I have to help my father!” Arya yelled, struggling against the man, but he musn’t have heard her. He dragged her towards the side of the crowd, and in a minute they were in a dimly lit, deserted tunnel. The muffled roars from above shook the walls of the tunnel they were in. “You can’t, boy. Your father will have to take care of himself.” The man stopped walking, and let go of her shoulder. “You best start worrying about yourself now. D’you remember me, boy?”

 

He turned around to look at Arya - matted, greasy hair, with beetle-black eyes staring at her intently. His teeth were rotting, and his breath reeked of sour wine, and he wore a dusty black cloak over a black leather jerkin and black breeches - _a Black Brother; the man who came to visit Father! Yargo - no, Yorgen - no, Yoren_!

 

“You’re Yoren. From the Night’s Watch.”

 

He nodded, and gestured towards Needle. “Hope you can use that; it’s not going to be easy getting out of this city no-”

 

The ground shook violently, and a deep voice thundered from above.

 

“ _Balerion, Ziil gro dovah ulse!_ Rise, Balerion, and kill these mortals who presumed to bury your bones!”

 

Arya’s eyes widened - the black dragon was resurrecting another one? A long, ear-piercing shriek rang through her ears, and everything began to shake more violently. “By the gods!” Yoren swore. “We have to get out of here quickly! Follow me!” He turned and hurried down the corridor, and Arya followed.

 

“This is an underground barracks for the Goldcloaks, an’ they got tunnels connecting to all the gates ‘round the city.” Yoren said as he walked. “We can follow the tunnels to the Iron Gate, but we’ve got to watch out for the guards. Most of them are out, though, on duty for your father’s execution, but there’s got to be some stragglers.” He stopped at a door, listened intently, and cautiously opened it. It led to a sleeping quarter, and it was deserted. He beckoned to Arya, and the two of them stole into the room.

 

“Look into the chests and see if you can find some squire’s clothes that can fit you.” He whispered. “I’ll look for some other things we can use.” Arya nodded, and turned to the chest at the foot of the nearest bed. Empty, save for a ratty white tunic that was too loose for her. The other chests all had clothes made for men much bigger than herself, but finally she found a leather cuirass, a fresh pair of breeches, a set of leather gauntlets and greaves, and a pair of boots that fit. She hurriedly put them on, discarding the filthy clothes she had been wearing, and strapped Needle back onto her waist as she turned back to Yoren. 

He was cramming arrows into a quiver, with two hunting bows and a full quiver on the end table next to him. “You know how to use a bow, boy?” he asked gruffly.

 

“Yes,” she answered, taking the quiver and strapping it to her back. A dagger lay on the table, with a leather sheath, so she took that too and attached it to her belt as well. "But I'm not a boy, so stop calling me that!" Yoren snorted. “The Queen will be looking for Arya Stark for sure.  Arry the orphan boy off to join the Night's Watch isn’t worth piss to her, so cut off your hair. We can’t have anyone recognize you, and it’ll get in the way besides.”

 

Arya hesitated, but gathered up her hair and cut it off at the base of her neck anyway. Yoren put on his own quiver, and snatched two waterskins and passed one to Arya. “Let’s go. Keep your eyes peeled and your ears open, and make sure you keep quiet, boy.” She took the skin, strapped it round herself again, and picked up her bow.

 

There was a door at the end of the room, which they found thankfully unlocked. The pair of them crept through the door, and through the halls, listening intently for any signs of activity, but there was none - save for the roars of the dragons above ground, and the shrieks and screams of their victims. Yoren was right - the Goldcloaks were all on duty, and with the dragons rampaging at the surface, it seems that the rest of them were called up to help protect the city. They passed through the barracks and the rest of the tunnels in relative safety, but as they approached the door leading to the outpost next to the Iron Gate, they heard voices beyond it.

 

"It was a great black dragon, it went right up to the Red Keep. It said somethin', then another dragon clawed its way outta the castle! There are two of em out there, burning everything in their path -”

 

“You stay here. I’ll take care of these men.” Yoren whispered. She started to protest, but he glared at her. “You’ve got no chance against them.” he hissed. She relented, and hid herself behind a couple of barrels next to the gate. He left, and then she heard shouts, a sword being drawn, steel on steel, and then silence.

 

Yoren reappeared, gesturing for her to follow. The two Goldcloaks were sprawled out on the floor, but still breathing. “This way.”

 

Through the door they went, and up a winding staircase. The chaos from above got louder and louder, and finally they reached the room at the top. The room was in disarray, and the weapon racks along the wall were all empty. A ladder was placed in the middle of the room, with a trapdoor at the top.

 

“Get up; the door should be unlocked!” Yoren yelled over the din. Arya climbed up as she was told, and the sudden burst of hot air nearly burned her face as she lifted the trapdoor. They were on the main road right next to the Iron Gate, alright, at the edge of Flea Bottom - or what was left of it, anyway. Everything was on fire, the sky was dark, thunder was clapping, and flaming rocks were falling from the sky. Amidst the havoc, two huge black dragons were circling overhead, and the bigger one - it had the same red underbelly as the one she saw before Yoren dragged her into the tunnel, so it must be the same dragon - dived and landed deep inside the city. The dragon’s roar could still be heard from where they were.

 

“Your Thu’um is strong, mortal, but I am Alduin, most mighty of any in the world! You cannot hope to defeat me!”

 

“Dragons have no place in the world of men!” a different, fainter voice - my father’s voice! - Shouted back. “ _Faas Ru Maar_ \- Away with you, dragon, and do not come back!”

 

The dragon chucked -  a deep, rumbling chuckle that shook the ground from where she stood. “Do you think I will run, joore? Such arrogance. Balerion! These mortals must be humbled!”

 

The other dragon shrieked and doubled its efforts to lay waste onto the city.

 

“Don’t just stand around, we’ve got to get out of this fuckin’ city!” Yoren bellowed. He had already made it to the city walls. “Stay close!”

 

She took one last look toward the hill where she knew her father was fighting a dragon, and turned her back, running after Yoren towards the Iron Gate.

 

\---

 

Most of the recruits had managed to escape in the chaos after the dragon attack. He hadn’t been there to keep an eye on them, having taken the messenger’s gold and followed his directions to be at Lord Stark’s sentencing, and so the lot all turned craven at the sight of a dragon and had turned on the guards he had assigned to them. Poor men didn’t stand a chance, faced with a dozen desperate men scared shitless by a fucking dragon. It didn’t even attack their camp, and thank the gods that the idiots didn’t think of taking the supplies with them when they ran. He ran a hand over his beard and surveyed the recruits that remained. Three boys, four thieves, two rapers, a murderer, and a highborn lady masquerading as an orphan boy. The horses pulling the carts hadn’t been taken either.

 

Inwardly, he groaned. He’d have to beg for some more guards at the next castle they get to, and with those dragons flying around, them lords would probably give up their wives first before they give him any man who might help protect them against those things.

 

Guards or no, though, they’d have to get to the Wall somehow.

**Author's Note:**

> I was surprised that there hasn't been a good AsoIF/Skyrim crossover yet, given that their worlds appear to be very similar, so thegracious and I decided to give it a shot. It will be more of an AsoIF fic, with a few elements taken from Skyrim - basically, the entire Alduin plotline will be taken from Skyrim. A few side quests and characters will also make an appearance. We will try to explain as much as we can about the Skyrim elements we've added to this, so even readers who haven't played Skyrim before can follow. If you have questions, don't hesitate to leave a comment! 
> 
> Chapter titles will be taken from the Skyrim quest that it was based on. All characters, locations, etc etc are the property of Bethesda and George RR Martin. We own nothing except the idea for the crossover and everything written hereafter. Other character and relationship tags to be added when they appear.
> 
> -  
> Translations:  
> Tinvaak Vazah - Speech True  
> Ziil Gro Dovah Ulse - Ever-bound Dragon Spirit  
> Joore - Mortal  
> Faas Ru Maar - Fear Run Terror. Used as the Dismay shout - a move where your character shouts these words to an opponent, and if they are lower in level, they flee.


End file.
